


Just Jaskier

by thegayemu



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Oneshot, Protective!Geralt, Trans Character, ftm!Jaskier, i guess?, idk he's in the bath take that as you will, implied nudity?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegayemu/pseuds/thegayemu
Summary: Jaskier has spent a decade of on-and-off travel with Geralt hiding a very big secret, afraid of the potential cost of honesty. That is, until Geralt walks in on him bathing and there's no hiding it anymore.(Or, ftm!Jaskier finally comes out to Geralt.)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	Just Jaskier

Jaskier knows, realistically, that he'll have to tell Geralt eventually, or the Witcher will inevitably figure it out for himself. He's always meant to, _honest._ But it's never really come up, Jaskier tells himself. It's never been the right time. After all, this isn't news you just dump on someone, and it holds the potential to completely change the dynamic of their relationship (friendship?). And every time he thinks, just maybe, it's the right time, the space in the silence overwhelms him and he chickens out, fills it with empty words - pie with no filling. _Next time,_ he assures himself. _It can wait._ So he does wait. For years.

He's in the bath when Geralt enters, without so much as a knock. Arms fling up to cover his chest reflexively, but it's too late, whatever words Geralt had come in to say in the first place now lost in his throat as he looks Jaskier over. 

"Geralt!" Jaskier cries, trying his hardest to sound indignant. Any way to steer the conversation. But it's futile. "A knock would've been nice."

"Those scars," Geralt's words are slow, careful. "Are they new?" Jaskier's mind fails him, eyes flicking up at Geralt, then down to see if his lower half is visible through the water, then past Geralt at the wall behind him. 

"What scars?" He blurts out. It's his knee jerk reaction, the first thing that pops into his head. And the dumbest. Those scars are there, obviously, and now Geralt's going to be even more suspicious. 

"On your chest. When were you hurt?" He blanches, lips parted in dumbfounded shock.

"Oh." He swallows hard, glancing down at his own chest. "These? They're, uh, they're old. Had them a long time." He's fumbling over his words. Geralt looks incredibly unconvinced in the candlelight. 

"Jaskier." That tone again, the _I'm doing this for your own good, stupid bard_ tone. "Let me see." He moves closer, and a shiver runs down Jaskier's back. He shrinks into himself, but unfolds his arms resignedly. This is an argument he's decidedly not going to win. Twin scars sit under each pec, running from his sternum to just under his armpits, careful stitching well-healed. Geralt runs his thumb over the raised skin. "This looks deliberate. Who did this to you?" _Fuck,_ Jaskier's mind races. _No way out now._

"A… a healer." His voice is far away, uncharacteristically subdued. Geralt raises an eyebrow.

"A healer?" He squats next to the tub, much like Jaskier had on more occasions than either would like to admit. 

"I wanted him to." Geralt's eyebrow raises even further, if such a thing is even possible, and Jaskier thinks it might entirely leave the Witcher's face if he doesn't stop beating around the bush. "It was surgery." _Closer._

"What was wrong with you? When did this happen?" Jaskier has a question of his own - _when the fuck did Geralt get so chatty?_ \- but he chooses not to ask it. 

"Not long before we met. And nothing was wrong. Well, I mean, something was - you don't just get surgery for no reason - but I wasn't sick or anything, I guess." He's rambling, delaying the inevitable. 

"What are you talking about?" Under Geralt's firm gaze, his resolve crumbles, and he finally explodes. 

"Breasts, Geralt! I got my fucking breasts removed. Gods, Geralt, are you happy now?" He lets out a frustrated sigh, taken aback by the unfamiliar anger in his own voice, and slumps back in the tub, water rippling around him. He can see Geralt's mouth twitch and decides he'd rather answer before he has to listen to the question. "Yes, I had breasts." He squeezes a hand over his eyes, too terrified to see Geralt's reaction when the next words spill from his mouth. "I was a girl. I was born a girl and then I realized I felt like a man and I ran off. Picked a new name, traveled around, saw a healer to deal with everything as soon as I had the coin. And then I met you." He sucks in a shaky breath, and in the silence wonders if Geralt has left him. As an addendum, perhaps to no one, he adds, "and I was just Jaskier, y'know? I wasn't Juliana anymore, and you treated me like a man, a real man. And I just didn't want to fuck that up." He sinks deeper into the tub, face hot with the threat of tears. And then he hears the creak of floorboards. 

"You're still just Jaskier." His hand drops from his eyes and he gawks at Geralt, still in the same place next to the tub. There's a sincerity in Geralt's eyes he saw much less than he'd like. He flings his arms out of the tub and wraps them around Geralt before he can be stopped. "Don't push it, bard," he warns, giving a soft thump against his back before pushing him away.

With that, Geralt gives him his privacy to finish up. Fingers and toes beginning to prune, Jaskier knows it's high time he got out of the tub and dried off. But just for a moment he allows himself to just sit there and soak it all in, warm and content. For all his big dreams and lofty goals, for all he has been and will be, there is nothing he'd rather be in that moment than just Jaskier.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic since my LJ days so feedback is thoroughly appreciated. tysm :)
> 
> Edit: [Here's my Tumblr](https://brasskier.tumblr.com/)


End file.
